Chris Holm - Dead Harvest

"So that's what this is about?" I asked. "I kill your god, and now you want to make me pay?"

His eyes danced with anger and spite, and something else as well. Madness, I realized. The madness of a zealot.

"There is no payment great enough to repair what you have done. You've robbed the world of its Heavenly Father. I should have sensed the stink of wickedness upon you all those years ago when I first took your soul; I should have realized my attempts to cleanse the stain of sin from you were for naught. But I didn't, and it cost our Lord His life. That will forever be my burden to bear. But this girl, this harlot, this vile creature — she means something to you, does she not? Perhaps you see your wickedness reflected back at you. Perhaps you were seduced by her comely features, or tempted by her feminine wiles. I care not what it was that drew you to her; all I care is that you care for her — that this girl, this sinner, this foul creature holds meaning for you, as the Heavenly Father does for me. You see, I cannot extract payment enough from you to change what you have done, but I can force you to suffer. I can force you to watch as I tear her soul from her body. I can cause you to suffer as I myself have suffered, for I am a vengeful God, and all must learn that it is dangerous to cross me."

"You're no God at all, you fucking freak. You're a scavenger at best — or even less, you're just a cog in a machine. Your only task is to collect the souls of the damned, and even in that you're deluded. This girl's an innocent, Bishop. She didn't do it. That's why I've been protecting her. That's why I can't let you collect her."

"I'm deluded? Listen to yourself! You're not making any sense! Why would you be sent, if this girl was not to be taken? Why would the Lord himself have dispatched me to collect her?"

"Because she's been set up," I said.

"By whom? Who but she had motive to do what she has done? Who would stand to gain by the collection of an innocent soul? Who could possibly wish for war to erupt between the ranks of the righteous and the wicked?"

And just like that, I had it. It was obvious, really. I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it before.

The answer to Bishop's question fell softly from my lips, just one word, so quiet even I could barely hear it. Just one word, but with that one word, everything changed.

"So'enel."

There was no thunderclap, no flash of lightning — no trumpet's blare to announce his presence. One moment, there was nothing to my left but empty space, and the next, the angel was there. In my jail cell, he'd worn a suit of charcoal gray, but now he wore nothing at all, his tall, slender body suffused with light and impossibly bright after the dimness of the room. As before, his features were indistinct, and almost painful in their beauty, but this time, I refused to look away.

"Collector," So'enel said, his rich baritone both confident and soothing, compassionate and strong.

"Seraph," I replied.

The angel looked around, taking in the scene before him: Kate, duct-taped to the chair, her gaze averted; Bishop, cowering behind her, the knife lying forgotten at his feet; and me, my silly rag-stuffed gun still trained at the spot over Kate's shoulder where, until recently, Bishop had stood. Then So'enel returned his gaze to me, his bright eyes of neither blue nor brown nor green penetrating into the furthest reaches of my tattered soul. "Tell me, Collector, why is it that you've brought me here?"

"Because I've done it," I said, willing the quaver out of my voice, the tremor from my limbs. "I figured out who it was that set up the girl."

The angel shook his head. "I see you're still persisting in this fiction of yours. It is understandable, I'll grant you, to refuse to believe one so young, so seemingly sweet, could be capable of such a terrible act, but as you recall, I looked into the matter myself. I assure you, the child is guilty."

"Yeah, so you said. Here's the thing, though — I'm positive she's not."

The angel smiled: blinding, beautiful. "Are you accusing me of lying, Collector?"

I ignored his question. "Before, in my cell, you told me my name was from the Hebrew for 'heard by God'."

"So I did, and so it is."

"Tell me, what does So'enel mean?"

"I fear I fail to see the relevance of the question."

"Oh, I think you see the relevance just fine. It means that you're a warrior, does it not?"

"A warrior for God, yes."

"Right," I said. "Not much to do these past millennia, though, huh? I mean, what with the detente and all."

"I'm sorry; I must be misunderstanding you. Are you suggesting that I am somehow involved in orchestrating an elaborate ruse to frame a poor innocent little girl?"

"I'm not suggesting that you orchestrated a thing. No, what I'm suggesting is it was you who possessed this girl. That it was you who killed her family. That it was you who tortured her mother until the police arrived, just to ensure there'd be no mistake in determining who was responsible. And that it was you who made sure she was marked for collection, covering your tracks so well that both sides are convinced she's guilty."

"That is preposterous," the angel said. "I am an angel of the highest order; a servant of God. I've no interest in being insulted by a lowly Collector."

"My apologies," I said. "I mean, it's not like any other angels have ever gone off the reservation. So tell me, this God of yours, you think he was just gonna let this slide? I mean, you damn an innocent soul to hell and start yourself a war, just for a little something to do? Sounds a lot like free will to me, my friend, and that's strictly verboten in angel-land, is it not?"

"What you're saying is heresy. You know not of what you speak."

"Maybe I do, and maybe I don't. But it seems to me it's a fine line between an angel and a demon; just a hint of jealousy, or of doubt, and you're off to the races. Are you telling me you couldn't have possessed the girl — that you don't have that kind of power? Of course you're not. If a demon can take a human host, it stands to reason an angel can, too. And here's the thing: Kate here told me that when she killed her family, she did it with a sense of calm, of peace, the likes of which she'd never felt before. She told me she did it with a song in her heart. Does that sound like any demonic possession you've ever heard of?"

The angel shook his head. "Don't you see what she has done to you? She's blinded you to her true nature! She's convinced you of this impossible scheme to blind you to the fact that she's responsible for these horrible acts!"

As he spoke, the angel approached, his action lending urgency to his words. I backed away from So'enel, and trained the gun at his chest.

"That weapon will not harm me," he said gently. "You sure about that? You may wanna ask Beleth." I found myself wondering if it's a bluff if you don't know for sure you're bluffing.

The angel raised his hands in acquiescence, a bemused smile settling across his beautiful face.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Nothing whatsoever, I assure you. It is just that I underestimated you, Collector — you're far more compassionate a creature than am I. After all, it must be difficult to defend the life of the girl who so brutally slaughtered your own granddaughter."

The blood drained from my face. I felt suddenly dizzy and weak, and my gun hand dropped to my side, the Glock pointed uselessly toward the floor. "What did you just say?"

So'enel replied, "Don't tell me you didn't know! I mean, the resemblance to your Elizabeth is astonishing! In the mother, and the boy as well; why, he would have been your great-grandson, would he not?"

Though the summer of '44 had been sweltering, October brought with it a brutal cold front, blanketing the city in the kind of chill that settles in your bones and makes you think you'll never feel the kiss of warmth again.